Charlie's Heart: MC Romance (Burning Bastards MC Book 3)

by Ryder Dane

  The same hand as before helped him hold the pistol to the side of his neck with it angled slightly up. He expected that black-clad finger to press on his own trigger finger, but the guy said, “You want to die, pull the trigger, I ain’t your executioner, you will be.” He took a deep breath and said a silent prayer that God would forgive him before pressing the warm metal beneath his finger. The shot exploded and he felt as if his head bad blown apart, but he could still see the men staring at him. He tried to say something, and closed his eyes for the last time.

  Blue spoke up. “The only problem I see here is the sheriff has been beaten bad, and the fucker on the floor hasn’t got a scratch on him.”

  Big Dog shrugged, “Not our problem if they were smoking and caught the whiskey on fire, now is it? Come on, drop a few bottles around and I’ll light a cigar.”

  “Not trying to tell you what to do, but the canyon drop off is right down the road a half a mile. Why waste good booze and a nice place like this when the canyon and a gas can is so close by?”

  Big Dog looked at the younger man with new respect, “I guess you’re right, Blue, why waste anything more than a car and the energy.”

  Show checked his phone for the fifth time and Charlie wondered what that was about. They were camped out near a forest just over the Oregon state line for the night, and should be in Washington the next day early in the afternoon. From then they should find a little burg called Graham, and that is where the two women were supposed to be hiding out.

  It didn’t take Show long to tell him what was going on, and Charlie was furious when Show said, “I half expected this, Big D says abort and come home, the situation is handled. I guess we made the trip for nothing.” He watched the old guy begin to toss rocks and small limbs toward a pine twenty feet away. “You know something, brother, I don’t care, I needed the ride to blow the stink off anyway. It’s been a good trip with good company, a man can’t ask for more, can he?”

  Charlie was pissed, he knew in his gut he’d been sent off to get him out of the way, and when he saw Big D he was going to tell him his thoughts on being coddled like an infant. The thing was, Show had a good outlook on the trip and he knew he needed the freedom of not worrying what people would say to Selma, or think about her hanging with an old scooter bum like him. He needed this more than he would admit to anyone.

  This love shit was complicated, and he wondered if he would break out of the new arrangements in his life. He kept the certainty in the back of his mind that one day he’d wake up and she would tell him to leave. The shoe was on the other foot with Selma, it had been from the beginning. Before, he’d always been the one to say it wasn’t working out for him and the woman he was with at the time. Now he was waiting for his walking papers and it was wearing on his soul.

  Chapter Ten

  It took Charlie and Show two days to get back home and Charlie went directly to the clubhouse before he went home. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Selma first, but he had unfinished business with a certain smart fucker and it was best to take care of it now and get it over with. Show left for his place in town, and Charlie waved him off at the turnoff to town. He went another mile and swung the bike into the open gates at the club.

  When he walked into the place, there was almost no one around. Tiny wasn’t behind the bar and even Joker wasn’t at his customary spot by the door. Candy was wiping down tables and she smiled when she saw who had entered this early in the morning. He nodded his head at her but kept walking to the back of the building where Big Dog’s office sat. He didn’t bother to knock, and was disappointed when he found the room as empty as the main room. He went back to the bar and asked Candy where everyone was at?

  She was still smiling at him, but shook her head, “As far as I know, Big D took Future to some specialist out of town, I heard they’d be back in a day or two. Demon and Knight left around four this morning, and Tiny is at the dentist to get his new dentures, another tooth fell out last week and he got tired of trying to eat through a straw. You can tell he’s lost some weight ‘cause his pants are starting to bag on his big ass.”

  He thanked her and left the building. Fuck, he hated it when he had a full head of steam and didn’t have a place to vent. It was Wednesday and Selma would still be at the courthouse working, so he mounted up and rode to his old place. He wasn’t sure of the reason he’d kept the place after moving most of his shit in her place. Not that there was much more than his clothing and a few pictures to move in the first place. Most of his old clothes were still here. His new duds were hanging in her closet.

  He gathered some clothes onto the bed, and headed for the shower, maybe he needed to have some solitude today. He came to a few decisions on the trip home, and he wanted to think it through one more time before he acted on instinct again.

  He was dead tired, but his mind refused to shut the fuck up, so he wrapped the towel around his waist and walked into the kitchen to grab a beer, before sitting in his favorite chair and flipping through the channels. The noon news was on and he sat up straight when the breaking news reporter came on the screen with a fire and rescue truck behind her as she told the audience that “The police were not releasing the names of the victims of something they are saying appears to be a murder-suicide. Neighbors say the victims of the wreck are Sheriff Vince Houser and Prosecuting Attorney Howard Buel. That has not been confirmed pending forensic evidence and a coroner’s report.”

  “Well the fuckers took care of it alright, but what happens to Pressley now?” He would wait to talk to Big Dog, but Selma would be home in five or six hours, so he had time for another brew and watching the remainder of the newscast.

  He woke up and some crime show was on and it was full dark outside. “Shit, it’s almost fucking cold in here.” He remembered shutting the heat down to a temperature that wouldn’t allow the pipes to freeze if they got cold weather while he wasn’t there. He looked at the clock and it was after nine and decided to wait until early in the morning to go home. He hadn’t counted on falling asleep like that, and she would be ready for bed by now. He was wide awake and she would try to stay up to keep him company. That was just the kind of woman she was. She always put him first in everything but the one area where it counted.

  There was a frozen dinner and a frosted over hamburger that had been tossed in the freezer before he’d left the last time, so he nuked the dinner, wishing it was a plate of Selma’s chicken and potatoes instead of the mushy shit that he used to enjoy eating.

  She knew he was back, on the way home from work she’d stopped for gas and ran into Show while he was filling the tank of his bike. He had been at the clubhouse, that was as much as she did know for certain. Maybe he had too much to drink and stayed overnight. Pictures of some of the housecats and passarounds flickered through her mind, but she knew that her man wouldn’t do that to her, tempted by perky tits and firm thighs or not. No, Charlie wouldn’t stray.

  She stretched out on the sofa and used the remote in front of the television to watch the ten o’clock news cast. She had already been informed of the deaths of the sheriff and Howard Buel. It appeared that the sheriff had Howard in handcuffs before the attorney’s sedan had gone over the side of the deep canyon. She was glad Charlie had been out of town when it happened, because she might have wondered if he had help engineer the accident. She had no doubt the two men were “taken out” by the MC, no one messed with a brother and walked away scot-free. Not that Charlie had ever said anything. When she began dating the charismatic biker, she’d gone online and read up on as many sites as she had time to see if bikers actually were as bad as they were reputed to be. She found more information than she knew how to process at the time.

  The 1%ers were what she might refer to as lawless, yet they had their own laws and codes to live by. There were varying degrees of toleration anywhere from drugs to slavery and prostitution, grand theft, and payments made to the clubs to allow people to do business as long as they paid each month.

&n
bsp; Then there was the borderline clubs. She imagined that the Burning Bastards were such. They worked security for rock stars, worked their version of bounty hunters, and most of them had jobs or businesses. From there it trickled down to church groups and wanna be’s. All biker groups seemed to have a heart regardless of the percent they lived as. They organized and ran toy drives for underprivileged children, they arranged and rode in cancer fund raising. They took some of the more spry and alert patients in nursing homes for rides to let them feel the wind one last time. Or for the first time. It seemed poker runs were a favorite fundraiser for bikers and they had raised millions for the causes over the years. All in all, they were just regular people attempting to raise their families and make a decent living for themselves. She could respect that.

  She had tomorrow off, and she would track him down if she had to. Thumbing off the TV, she laid back in the familiar cushions, pulled the knitted afghan from the back, and covered her body to keep the chill off.

  She was awakened by a kiss on her shoulder, and she smiled. He was back, and her world was right again. She was lying face down on the sofa with her head hanging over the side, and when she looked back to say good morning, she felt her shorts being peeled down her legs and pulled off one foot, and left to dangle off of her ankle.

  His fingers were busy between the folds of her greedy pussy and she felt the wetness slide from her vaginal tunnel lubricate his fingers as they set a rhythm that made her need to move her hips. “Oh, Daddy, I missed you, this feels so good.”

  His fingers withdrew and she was humping onto air then made out a small scream of frustration that turned into a hum when his thick cock penetrated her pussy. With her legs spread as far apart as possible in this position, his cock slid in easier than normal, or maybe it was the juice from her cunt that made the glide less difficult. Whatever it was she grunted when he hit bottom and she felt his cock head kiss her cervix. His hand reached down and cradled her throat in a light but firm hold, slowly applying pressure with each stab of his cock. He knew this drove her crazy, and when he began talking dirty to her, she stopped trying to hold back. When he was like this, she was in for the fucking of her life and each time was better than the last.

  “You like that, dontcha, you make me want to fuck your sweet little pussy for hours, and maybe I will. Should I keep you naked and sucking my cock and fucking all day? I bet you love the idea of me slapping this pretty little ass, don’t cha? Come on, babydoll, it’s time for you to let me feel your pussy grab my cock and suck the cum from my balls. Yeah, darling I love it when you wake up as wet as any slut trolling for a random fuck.” He rammed her harder and gave her thigh a swat of his big hand and she screamed as her hips slammed back onto his cock. “Come on, doll, yeah, I feel your tight cunt clenching and pulling me deeper, fuck yeah.” He flooded her pussy with his cum even as she gasped and he felt her do something only a few women he’d been with before could do, she clamped down on his cock so hard that he couldn’t move until her body relaxed enough to unclench her pussy from its stranglehold on his shaft.

  “Goddamn, woman, you should have a tat on your ass that says “caution”, fuck me if you shouldn’t”. I’m glad your pussy let me go so we can get something to eat and I will pet her afterwards, I feel like staying in today, I hope you don’t have any plans besides making your man happy.”

  She smiled and rolled over to see him standing next to the sofa with his clothes in his hands. He might be in his early sixties but the man was still built like a man should be. Small hips and waist up into wide shoulders and, damn, she could feel herself becoming interested again and had to look away from his muscled chest. She sat up and fell backwards onto the cushions, dizzy from the rapid movement. She held out her hand for him to pull her upright and she found herself in his arms with his clothing smashed between them as he joined her in a good morning kiss.

  Over breakfast and into the early afternoon she related everything that had gone on with the sheriff and when the subject of Pressley came up, he turned the subject to her fast thinking. “I’m damn glad that you got Big Dog to be his guardian. He will make sure the boy gets all the help he needs from here on out.”

  She wanted to tell him that she had made a decision, but he kept changing the subject for the entire day and into the evening. He didn’t want to talk about the two of them and it worried her. The last time he’d made love to her was too sweet and gentle for mere words, and she felt tears sliding down her cheeks. She knew what he was doing, and it broke her heart all over again.

  “You’re leaving again, aren’t you? Will you be back or should I try to move on again? Tell me what I’ve done this time to make you want to leave me, to leave us. I begged you the last time, and it did no good, all it did was make me feel like a fool for begging you to love me enough to stay. Is that what you want from me again, to see me on my knees? I’ll do it, tell me what you need from me to make you stay, don’t do this please.”

  Charlie rolled over and raised his hand to cradle her face. “Babydoll, I love you, ain’t nothing gonna change that. I need to get my head on straight. It’s not about what you can do or what I want from you. Hell, woman, I know I’m a stupid fucker for even thinking I need to do some soul searching, but every breath I take tells me I need to go for a while, I’ll be back when I get my shit together, I hope you’re still waiting for me, but I won’t expect you to wait around for me. I want to beg you to promise me that you understand, but even I don’t understand it myself, how can I expect you to?”

  He rolled onto his back and pulled her over until her head rested on his chest. “I never met a woman who could hold me, never met one who I handed my heart to with both hands like I did you. I will be back, and if you still want me, we’ll make this life a permanent thing. I’ll be ready to give up the club, and do my damndest to settle into your life. It’s all I can promise, and I hope it’s enough for you. Now go to sleep and I’ll lay here knowing I am an old fool.”

  She eventually fell asleep still making little whimpering sounds, but he took his pillow and slid it between her arms as he slipped out of the bed.

  Chapter Eleven

  She knew he was gone before she opened her eyes. She felt like shit and once she looked in the bathroom mirror, she knew she looked as good as she felt. A hot shower improved the looks a little bit and the light coating of make-up disguised the blotchy red spots on her skin from her crying jag.

  Heading into the kitchen seemed like a waste of energy, but she desperately needed coffee, and there was only one way to get it this morning. There was a very small jewelry box sitting on the kitchen table, and she reached a trembling hand to pick it up and opened it to reveal a beautifully set diamond ring. The ring was white gold and was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Her eyes were swimming again and she picked up the single sheet of paper and tried to read it through her tears.

  Babydoll, I know I’m no great catch, but I love you. I have the band that goes with this ring, and when I get back I hope you will consent to wear both of them. I don’t know fancy words, but whether you wear it or not, I’ll always be yours.

  Charlie

  Coffee was forgotten. She sat on the nearest chair and held the box for a long time. Eventually she took the ring from the box and slipped it on her finger. He was rough, and he was an ass, but she was going to be the best wife he would ever ask for. The ring didn’t make up for his absence, but it went a long way to restoring her faith in him. He would return to her.

  It took her extra time to repair her make-up and find her shoes, but she made it to the courthouse in time to peruse the files for today. There was a junior attorney for the prosecution, but nothing that appeared to be too complicated was scheduled for today. She made a pot of coffee in her chambers and sat back to enjoy her first cup of the day. The ring flashed and she held up her hand to admire the beauty of the setting against her hand.

  The cases were mostly slam dunk against the accused. One man had stabbed his girlfrie
nd multiple times because she had taken the power cord for his game box and refused to return it until he got a job. He had no remorse and she had to have him removed from the courtroom because he would not shut up.

  Another case involved a mother of three who refused to give up an abusive boyfriend and the man had begun hurting the children. The children’s natural father stared at the woman with hatred in his eyes and the boyfriend must have either been high or drunk. She had the bailiff remove the boyfriend and lock him up for public intoxication and contempt of court. Charges of child endangerment were serious, but the woman sat with her lawyer through the proceedings until Selma wanted to slap the smile from her face every time the ex-husband accused her of more misdeeds. Needless to say, the father won custody of the children and the mother was ordered to undergo psychological testing to determine if she had a mental problem, or should be tried for her crimes against her children. The natural father received sole custody pending the resolution of the mother’s case.

  The last case on her docket made her frown as she read it. A young tough named Sam Lorne was accused of felony firearms possession. The further down she read the report, the more pissed off she became. It was a damned BB gun with no BBs and the kid was in the woods when the good sheriff arrested him for the firearm charge and for destruction of private property and vandalism.

  The boy was small framed and almost feminine in appearance. She had heard rumors about the sheriff before and now she was certain she knew what had happened. The kid’s parents were sitting behind him, and the mother was dabbing at her eyes. The kid was staring at her defiantly and she noticed the homemade tats on his bony arms. He was slumped in his chair and sneered at his court appointed attorney.